


well i’d sell my soul for just one touch (the good lord would too if he loved her half as much)

by preludes



Series: femslash february 2021 [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2021, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Symbolism, church
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29230503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preludes/pseuds/preludes
Summary: She knows Prudence Blackwood is coming even before she walks through the church, head held high, with a dagger in her boot. Roz can see it the same way she can see that Mrs Jameson is going to be blessed with twins. Walker women are weird that way.Prudence Blackwood’s skirt is above the knee. When she grins, she shows all her teeth, and there’s blood on one fingernail. Roz is captivated by her instantly.or; the rival churches/preacher’s daughter au
Relationships: Prudence Night/Rosalind “Roz” Walker
Series: femslash february 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146362
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	well i’d sell my soul for just one touch (the good lord would too if he loved her half as much)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clytemnestras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/gifts).



> a fill for [ this prompt ](https://clockwork-hart1.dreamwidth.org/53291.html?thread=1027371#cmt1027371) at [ this ficathon](https://clockwork-hart1.dreamwidth.org/53291.html#comments), come join us <3

Roz’s father dislikes Faustus Blackwood immediately, almost from the second he tries to hand the preacher who’s been here for years a pamphlet for his new church — and she uses the term church extremely loosely — that was built over a cemetery. Sabrina’s dragged her to enough horror movies, Roz feels like she knows how this will go. But Roz’s father, ever the people pleaser, smiles and takes it, but throws it in the trash the second the man is out of sight.

“No white man is gonna lecture me on shit,” He mutters. “Especially one who dresses like...that.”

Faustus Blackwood had thrown the them the pamphlet in the same outfit he seems to wear every day — and really, Roz can only hope he’s not one of those men who refuses to wash his clothes unless a woman does it — he is always in black robes, like a monk that got lost and went through a goth phase, and his smile is always fake. 

“Don’t worry, Dad. Our congregation is loyal to you,” Roz reminds him. “And loyal to God. No white man is gonna take that away from us. Ever. Trust me.” 

“I’m not worried baby,” Her father responds and twines his fingers together with an obvious anxiety he will not tell her of. “Just a bit angry. I’ll feel better on Sunday. I hear he has a daughter though, about your age. She seems nice. Maybe you could befriend her.” 

“Dad,” Roz says, fake-shocked. She puts a hand over her mouth and tries not to laugh. She took two years of drama class with Sabrina listening to Dorcas Night badly acting Shakespeare for this moment. “Are you asking me to convert her? I can’t believe you.” 

“No, no,” Dad says and laughs. “I just mean...some of the shit in that pamphlet sounded...culty. The gossip around town is that her birth mother died under mysterious circumstances. And I know our congregation would protect her if her father tried any shit. And so would I.”

“I’d protect her too,” Roz says and it’s stupid, she doesn’t even know the girl, has never seen her, why is she saying all this—

And yet, Roz feels as if she’s known Faustus Blackwood’s daughter before. And she didn’t like how it ended. 

“Prudence,” Roz whispers. “Her name is Prudence, isn’t it?”

Her father nods, doesn’t question it. Walker women are strange that way. You get used to it. “Thought you were gonna give me shit for listening to gossip.” 

“Not surprised. People’s faith in gossip is stronger than The Lord’s faith in us,” Roz says. “And sometimes people tell their preachers anything and everything, don’t they?” 

Her father kisses her on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll stay safe, yeah? I won’t lose you too. Not after Mama.” 

Roz cannot promise anything but the words come out of her mouth regardless. A reassurance, more than a promise. “I’ll try my best.”

-:-

Sunday morning comes quicker than the warm sunlight through the stained glass windows of her father’s church. Sabrina doesn’t come to church even though Roz has invited her a few times, after they buried Roz’s mother. She’s got her own religion that she’s very secretive about. Harvey is too busy at the mines to do much of anything these days, much less get up in the morning on his one day off. And so, Roz sits in the front pew, just as she always does. Roz likes routine, sometimes. 

She knows Prudence Blackwood is coming even before she walks through the church, head held high, with a dagger in her boot. Roz can see it the same way she can see that Mrs Jameson is going to be blessed with twins. Walker women are weird that way. 

Prudence Blackwood’s skirt is above the knee. When she grins, she shows all her teeth, and there’s blood on one fingernail. Roz is captivated by her instantly.

She should say something charming when Prudence sits next to her, crosses her legs, high heels clicking on the floor. But what comes out of her mouth is, “Come to check out the competition?” 

Prudence actually laughs, a soft sound, nothing like the image she wants the world to see. “Please. My father is hardly competition. Guess how big his congregation is? C’mon, pretty girl, guess.” 

“Roz,” Roz corrects but she could listen to Prudence call her pretty girl for the rest of her life and never grow tired of it. “I dunno, ten people?” 

“Nope,” Prudence replies. “Maybe five. And two of them are his children. It’s bad. Your dad has nothing to worry about, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Roz tries to assure her. What is it about Prudence Blackwood that makes Roz want to impress her so badly? “He asked about you. Wants us to be friends.”

“We could be more than friends,” Prudence whispers, like she’s doing the kind of magic Roz has only read about in library books. 

Prudence Blackwood becomes more fascinating with every second Roz knows her. And Roz feels as though she’s already known her, somewhere, somehow. 

“Meet me in the confession booth,” Roz chews on her bottom lip even though she didn’t phrase it as a question. Why does rejection suddenly scare her? Somehow she knows so much about Prudence Blackwood. Prudence is a force to be reckoned with. Prudence is the one who suggested they could be more than friends. And yet. And yet. And yet. 

Roz has never felt this way about anyone before. Harvey had been nice, easy even, and she tries not to think of how she saw him shoot his brother in the back of the skull, even though she was miles and miles away. Even though Sabrina was the only one who saw. Prudence’s very presence makes her feel as though she’s on fire, but she’s not in Hell, she is in a heaven of her own devising. 

“Roz,” Prudence repeats her name the way she speaks prayer, then she smirks at her, and runs a hand up Roz’s thigh. “Sure, pretty girl. It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [ twitter](https://twitter.com/topcatra/) and [ tumblr](https://fantasygfs.tumblr.com/)


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